


Let the brokenness be felt (‘til you reach the other side.)

by iileftherbehind



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Broken, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, TW/ panic attack, The 100 (TV) Season 7 Speculation, Torture, Welcome to Bardo, he hears clarke’s radio-calls, self hatred, void!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iileftherbehind/pseuds/iileftherbehind
Summary: Bellamy Blake hates himself. His sins can’t be forgotten nor forgiven. And when you feel so much hatred for yourself, nothing can save you, right? Nothing, maybe, except for one, rare, eternal thing: love.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 102





	1. PART I

**Author's Note:**

> Void!Bellamy is probably - surely - the most discussed thing in Bellarke’s fandom lately. i’ve been seeing lots of spec about this on Twitter, and about Bellamy being tortured with Clarke’s radio calls. both are amazing ideas that, we all know, the writers probably haven’t thought about. at first, I wanted to try and write down thing about either. then, the two ideas melted into one, and what was supposed to be a 2k one shot about void!Bellamy, turned into a 20K+ season 7 spec fic  
> \- in this fic, you’ll get both Clarke’s and Bellamy’s pov, depending on the moments.  
> \- Bellamy will hear some of Clarke’s radio calls, some we already heard on the show, and some are obviously just made up by me. he will also see some of his own memories with her.  
> \- i haven’t really put the most effort in understanding the 100’s later weird anomaly stuff and all. so, for continuity mistakes of any kind, please have mercy, no one wants to understand what’s going on on this show at this point  
> \- for continuity reasons: I supposed that on Bardo times runs faster, but not too much. so, starting this fic, know that Clarke arrives to Bellamy just a few days after getting to know he’s missing (show-wise). for Bellamy, instead, it’s been three months that he’s on bardo. (premise: it’s totally made up.)  
> \- that was really self indulgent and therapeutic, so mind me some errors.  
> TRIGGER WARNING: panic attacks.  
>   
> (is from Mars, Sleeping At Last)

_# CLARKE #_

Clarke feels her lungs burning but she doesn't stop running. She desperately gasps for air, her muscles are practically burning under her skin and she's sure some part of her is bleeding because she sees black blood running down her leg, but she keeps running. She keeps running through the forest, the green plants that so much remind her of home. Or - anyway - the place that she used to call home before home became a person.

The sound of a voice.

Arms wrapped around her. 

How ironic that the mission to find that same person has gotten her in her current situation.

She's sure she's left her hunters behind when she allows herself a break. As she almost collapses on the floor because of the lack of oxygen her lungs are desperately asking for, she leans onto a tree and tries to be as silent as possible. But her heavy breath and her heart thrumming hard against her chest betrays her.

She turns her head to the side to see if anyone's there. She closes her eyes when sees no one, and hopes she was right. That she really left them behind. That, maybe, they didn't see her and decided to call it a day.

She doesn't even know from whom she's running from, but the people after her don't seem to be kidding.

Clarke throws her head against the tree and opens her eyes again, trying to catch her breath back. She's aware she can't stay there for the rest of the day, especially because the sun is starting to set and she's sure the dark wouldn't help her, even if it'd hide her.

Right when she starts walking again, scrutinizing her surroundings carefully (she's learnt to do this long time ago on Earth, but, every time, it looks harder and harder) - a voice inside of her tells her that if she's survived six

years alone - or almost - in an uninhabited planet, she can sure as hell do this.

A noise between the leafs makes her raise her guard; she turns her head, looks trough the trees, tries to be as quiet as possible.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And then: light. So strong it almost blinds her.

It doesn't take her long to figure it's torches. They've found her - fuck - they've found her. She needs to run.

She runs. Fast, just like before, she doesn't know where to - just far from them. Her survival instinct has the best, sure, and the adrenaline running in her veins has its part, too, but she knows the tiredness will soon prevail. She knows she can't go on for long, and then...

...then she falls. She trips over a ripped trunk she definitely didn't see and hits her head. Her whole body hurts right now, sparkles of pain coming from her left leg and her shoulder making it almost impossible to focus on anything else. She feels blood running down her forehead. She tastes it, too.

She groans and brings her hand on her bottom lip; black blood all over her fingers. Pain, coming from her head now, too. Smell of trees. And steps.She feels her eyes heavy all of a sudden, as the lights get closer. One pointed right at her, keeping her from seeing the face behind it because of the intensity of it. As million ideas came to her mind - but her body is just too weak to apply any of them. And before she knows, a brief itching in her neck makes her hiss, like an injection.

And then, dark.

* * *

Clarke wakes up in a white room.

She slowly regains conscience, coming back to her senses. She blinks her eyes open weakly, taking in a fair amount of air like her lungs have been badly working for however long she'd been unconscious.She tries to move but the fabric around her wrists and ankles - tied to the chair she's sitting to - keep her from any movement. Clarke glances at them confused, and only then she understands.

Whatever they gave her was strong enough to make her confused enough even after she came back to senses: but she quickly figures everything, or at least enough to know she's tied to a chair in a white room, within the next twenty seconds. She feels so sick she would vomit if she could. And scream - no one gagged her, weird? - but she doesn't feel like she has enough strength left to do that. Or voice, for how much she cares. She clears it, trying to swallow past her very dry throat. But this just makes it worse, so she starts coughing, heavily, loudly, having to go forward with her body.She shakes her head, pushing her hair all over her face away and weakly sitting back in a normal position, and that's when she sees it: a mirror in front of her that had evidently completely slipped out of her first careful investigation.

Her reflection looks... tired.

With a wrinkle between her brows, Clarke notices she's been taken care of; she's not wearing her clothes anymore, instead, just a red tanked top that allows her to see the patches on her shoulder. She has two patches on her forehead and one on her left cheek, too, and her bottom lip looks swollen but there's no more blood running out of it. Her hair is messy and two big dark holes surround her swollen eyes.

She doesn't know where she is, nor how she got here, nor how many hours she's been out of the game, and the room doesn't give any clue away. It's just plain white, white walls, five white chairs around a rectangular white table completely empty and lucid. No paintings hung on the wall, no weapon around, no windows. Just a door, white, too, on her left, and the mirror in front of her.

With the corner of her eye she catches her leg. Only now she notices it's bandaged, and, weirdly, it doesn't hurt at all. Nor do the wounds on her face. Or her shoulder that she only now recalls hurt like hell right after falling.

Her head gets really messy as her chest gets heavier second by second. A small part of her hopes that it's just a bad dream, that she'll wake up and she'll be in the white house in Sanctum with Madi by her side.She's been in this situation tons of times in her life - even worse situations, no one of her kidnappers ever really showed this much care and attention to her wounds except, obviously, when she ended up in Mt. Weather, and considering how it ended up, her expectations are anything but positive.

A metallic noise that reminds her of the doors of the ark distracts her from her thoughts, and she turns to her left to meet the figure that steps inside the room. They're wearing a black uniform. It's just a simple plain one, one that could remember her of the ones the guards on the arm wore, but this one looks way more uncomfortable. There's a blue logo she can't quite read on the right shoulder and the person, who looks like a guard, too, stops by the door once inside, hands behind his back and head kept high, chin up, not looking at her.

A second figure walks into the room, and the guard makes a small nod with his head like a greeting. The second figure is wearing the same clothes, except there's an helmet in their head, covering their face completely.

The first guard turns to her, and she almost misses his words when he says her name while she's still looking at the mysterious figure now in front of her, helmet still on.

"Clarke Griffin." That's all he says. She frowns, and then she sees him walking away.

Clarke shakes her head. "Wait—" but then the guard already left, closing the door behind him with that same metallic noise that hurt her ears.

"Hey!" it comes out more desperate than she intended it to be, but her heart is beating fast against her chest. "Who are you? Why am I here?!" she yells, looking at the figure standing in front of her, "What do you want from me?! How do you know my name?" She sweeps her eyes over the uniform, and the body, and something makes her freeze. She swallows thickly, "What... what did you do to me? Why don't I feel pain for my wounds?" she shakes her head, and again, too many questions in her mind, making it dizzy. "Answer!" she yells.

But the figure doesn't move. She's not sure why, or let alone what is happening. They seem to be looking at her through the helmet they're wearing, scrutinizing her in every detail.

She takes a deep breath. And then another one. And then a third one, and she's so fucking thankful she did when her breath itches and she gasps, stops breathing for a second, when the helmet comes off. Her eyes widen, and then darken, her expression tenses up, and then relaxes, she almost jumps in her seat and a turmoil of confused and weird emotions stir in her gut as her mind forms just one, even too familiar name, echoing in her far but still vivid memories: _Bellamy_.

_# BELLAMY — THREE MONTHS_ _BEFORE;_ _BARDO #_

"He's selfless. Observing him, that's one of the main things we have learnt." the woman in white is gesturing around while talking, giving off a vibe that she knows exactly what she's talking about. "He will go to any length to save the people he's loyal to. Which, will be helpful" a beat, to turn to Bellamy and show a wide proud grin, then, "if we'll train him to be loyal to us, obviously."

The woman is wearing a uniform, long flared white trousers with a shirt and a jacket of the same candid color. The only thing that shines through all that white is her red lipstick, perfectly put around her small lips. They dragged him from a wood — where he apparently has been found — to what he now thinks could be a real modern building, with glass windows and doors and white furniture, so as the floors, walls and ceilings.

He's been gagged and his hands have been tied. but he luckily has been able to overhear some detail here and there: at first, he has beenextremely grateful that they — whoever they were — spoke the same language, remembering how frustrating it had been to find out the grounders had their own way to communicate without letting him and his friends understand.

Bellamy figured he was in a place, not sure of where, or how, nor why, called Bardo.Bardo is full of different landscapes and Bellamy - still - can't figure how that was possible. There are lots of woods, making it resemble a lot to Earth. But while the guards - dressed all in black instead - dragged him out of the woods, he found himself in front of a vaste blue multitude of clear water. A lake, he would've said, but he swore he heard them talking about the sea. Sea? Right next to a wood? Yes, okay, he didn't know a lot. But the books he'd read up in the ark when he was younger reminded him there were no oceans next to a wood. Or, at least, that was on Earth. They made him get on something that looked a lot like the rover they all had on Earth, and he honestly lost the count of the time when, hours and hours later — when it was supposed to be night already or at least sunset — he got off the transport and saw sun above him.

The place where the building erected was very much different from what he saw until now. It was surrounded by sand, like a desert. There were sand dunes around, and many people around them were totally covered from head to toe because of the hotness. He felt it, too, but only after coming back to his senses and fully realizing it: he had been kidnapped, and had no idea of what the hell was happening.

The woman turns to look at him again, and Bellamy - who's never really feared for his life rather than for his friend's - feels vulnerable all of a sudden.

“Call Anders." that's all she says.

* * *

Anders - he figures - is who walks into that room about twenty minutes later. He's tall, and blonde, and is wearing a white shirt, as white as his pants and as white as the woman's dress.

The man — Anders — sweeps his eyes over Bellamy, taking his time to evidently take every detail in before turning his serious expression into a grin. He turns to gaze at the woman and they both exchange another gaze.

“You must be Bellamy."

He'd crack some sarcastic joke if he wasn't gagged.

“Oh, right," Anders says, apologetically, "What a stupid. Where are the manners, Danielle? Take the gag off this poor man's mouth, for hell's sake."

His voice isn't as deep as Bellamy expected it to be and his tone is quite amused.

“Now you can talk, please, excuse my wife's manners."

Bellamy narrows his eyes at the man, but when he says the word wife, something shifts. He knows something about him that would make him vulnerable. Scrutinize then enemy, try to understand them, find their weak spot, use it tosurvive. A sequence he's learnt on the ground.

"Shy." Anders mutters. "It's okay, Bellamy. You'll talk, eventually. Especially when we'll know what's inside this pretty head." he taps on Bellamy's temple and he'd like to burn the whole place down. Rage running through his veins that he almost growls.

"Bring him to his new room." Anders declares, and as the guards — the same that brought him here — start walking towards him, he sees Anders' face close to his, his blue eyes staring right into his soul. "We'll have a lot of fun, you and I."

* * *

**_Week I._ **

The first time it's two days after he's brought to his room. It's quite comfortable, he needs to admit. It's white, too, with a bed and a desk with a small green light on it and some paintings all over the walls. There's a door on one of the walls, that leads to a small bathroom. There's also a wardrobe, that he opened that night when he couldn't sleep and he wasn't surprised when he just found white clothes in it. The guard told him to wash himself and change, but Bellamy didn't do it.

He doesn't even know if the bed is comfortable, because he didn't try it. The first night, he didn't sleep. He sat on the floor, leaned his back against the wall and thought about a way out. But before knowing a way out, he knows it, he needs to know three important things, 1) where he is, 2) who they are, and 3) what they want from him. The place he is in is confusing enough already and the weird diversity of landscapes already suggests what his fear was: he isn't in Sanctum anymore.

The second night, he slept on the floor. He didn't intend to, he was just staring at the ceiling when he fell asleep - and the next thing he knew was the guards coming in his room an pulling him out of it the next morning.

They brought him to a room where they'd cut his curly hair shorter and shaved his beard. Then, they gave him a grey uniform and told him to wear it. He'd considered to just let it go, but he figured he needed to play the part. At first, at least. 

So it's two days after that it happens. The guards come in his room when he's finally sitting on his bed, wearing his uniform, and thinking about a way to contact his friends. He's been feeling weird without his beard, mostly because he's had it for the last three years, but he doesn't mind it being shaved.

"Bellamy." Anders declares, making his way inside after the guards at his sides. "It's time, dear. Your training starts today."

Bellamy narrows his eyes at him. He asks himself if Anders wants people to be scared of him, because Bellamy's clearly not.

He doesn't feel fear at all.

Anger, more of it.

Frustration too.

But not fear.

"Maybe if you told me what training you're talking about, I could help you with it."

"Oh, but you're going to help me with it either way, Bellamy. You see... we have pretty convincing ways."

Again, Bellamy narrows his eyes. "No, thank you." he replies, dry. The corner of his lip arches in a smirk and he can't really stop it. (He doesn't want to).

Anders looks amused.

"God forbid, I'm sorry. You're right... where are my manners lately? You need to forgive me for not asking before." Anders makes his way to Bellamy with slow steps, stopping right in front of him, "So how's Clarke?"

Bellamy relaxes his forehead. He has absolutely no idea where that comes from, but it's not surprising he knows Clarke, if he knows him. They must know them all. Him, and all of his friends. Octavia, too. His whole family.

Bellamy clenches his jaw.

Anders continues, "We'll take care of her, too. All of them, Bellamy." he kneels down, and Bellamy considers kicking him in the face, but then the guards would come — and not that he fears is his life — but, now even more than ever, he fears for his friends' lives and he can't risk it. He should play cool. "Now, come with me, and I'll show you what you're meant to do."

He frowns, but doesn't give that too much weight. Then, he sees the guards arming their teasers so he figures that wasn't really a question. So, he collaborates.

They bring him into a wide white room. Different from the one he's been here before, the only one he's seen apart from his own room in the last days, because this one has many machines inside. There's a chair — different from the plain white chair they made him sit earlier — in the middle of the room, and it even looks comfortable. He spots what resembles to a helmet and many other devices he suspects Raven would know the name of.

They make him sit on the chair and tie his wrists and ankles. He doesn't ask questions, simply because he knows they won't answer them, so he tells himself he'll figure it all by himself.

“You see, Bellamy... you're really important. I dare saying," Anders starts, hands behind his back as he stands in front of him, "fundamental. The key to everything." he tilts his head to the side, grinning just enough for Bellamy to see it, but not long enough. "So we need you. Has anyone ever told you this? That they need you?"

Ander's words go right in his ears and Bellamy frowns heavily. He sweeps his eyes over the man's face, shaking his head. "What'd you just say?"

"I asked you a simple question, Bellamy. Has anyone ever told you?"

Bellamy swallows through his dry throat, but not one word comes out of his mouth now.

"You know what? Let's try again." The man in white walks to a commode not far from Bellamy's position and grabs a white remote. He walks back to Bellamy — he fears his heart beating so fast — that he almost doesn't hear the monitor next to him beeping.

"Oh, Bellamy, calm down. Such a big heart, uh?" the man turns the monitor off, and faces Bellamy again. He shakes his head.

Completely ignoring Anders' signals, Bellamy bursts out, "Are you going to torture me to get me to talk? To know anything? To force me to take part of whatever training you're talking about? Do it." Bellamy swallows, fiercely looking in his eyes, "I'm not scared of you."

Anders' malicious laughter is loud and it resonates trough the metallic walls. "Bellamy, I'm not going to torture you to get you to accept your training. The torture is your training."

In confusion because of the latest sentence he's heard — a few seconds later, someone pushes the helmet down on his head and everything goes black for a good amount of time. And then... then it all starts.

_i._

" _Bellamy_?" Her voice is clear and he hears her perfectly, like she's in his head. For a second, he actually thinks she is, and he's imagining it. Torture? Is that the torture? His friends calling for help? A simulation? " _God, I don't even know if you can hear me_." Bellamy frowns. It's all quite confusing at first because he doesn't see anything, but he knows he has an helmet on. Could Clarke be in that room with him? Is that Clarke talking to him through the helmet? Did they take her too—“ a metallic, almost deafening sound through his ears. She sighs. " _I guess I don't really have a choice, do I_?" pause. " _Maybe, no, probably, this will help more me than anyone... but I'm willing to try. Positive thoughts, Clarke... positive thoughts. So..._ " pause again. Bellamy's breath gets heavier. He doesn't understand. Any of it. He furrows his eyebrows together and it feels like a million things populate his mind but not a single one makes him understand what's actually going on. He tries to move, he can't. He tries to talk... he can't. He hears the far noise of a monitor beeping... he figures it's his heart. And now he feels it, too... it’s beating fast. " _It's been 44 days since Praimfaya. I've been to Arakdia. And I found this radio_." pause. " _It looks like it works, but, again, I'm no expert_." pause. " _Raven would know it._ " She sighs.

And just like that, Bellamy, slowly realizes.

He repeats it in his head... "It's been 44 days since Praimfaya... It's been 44 days since Praimfaya. It's been 44 days. Since Praimfaya. She went to Arkadia.

" _This radio looks old. I wonder if it comes right from the ark._ " Pause. It's not like that — he tells himself, tries to repeat it in his head — it can't be. That's your imagination. Bellamy — are you going crazy? — he asks himself. He thinks he is. And then... " _I really don't know how I've managed until now on my own. I'm not talking about the food or the water... I'm talking- I'm talking about... this_." obviously, Bellamy doesn't see it, " _All of this. By myself. I don't even know when it'll be survivable for you guys again_. " pause. Clarke sighs, frustrated. " _I don't know if it ever will..._ " It all comes together slowly. And then, just like that, suddenly, Bellamy knows — he already had, but he probably hadn't let himself believe it. And exactly when he knows he knows, it's not dark anymore, and a little screen in front of him starts playing. It's all blurred at first, he can't quite make any of it, but then... then a name starts coming to his mind. He still can't talk, but he thinks it: Madi. She's next to him. In front of him, the forest. He recognizes it, and, even better, right after a few seconds, he recognizes the moment. Now he knows, this... is a memory. He can't control it, it's not a simulation... because it already happened. It happened, and his heart breaks a little when he sees himself turning around and seeing Clarke right behind him, standing in the open drop ship. Madi talks a few seconds later. "You have to forgive her."

His own voice is louder, especially from this point of view, "Now's not the time, Madi."

"Do you have any idea how much she cares about you?"

"So much she left me to die in a fighting pit."

"That was a mistake." Madi smiles. "How many mistakes did you make to protect the child you loved?" "That was different" Bellamy replies. And Bellamy — the one sitting on the chair, reliving his own fucking memories — already knows Madi's next words. "Was it? I shouldn't tell you this, but, when you were on the ring... she called you on the radio everyday for six years. You didn't know that, did you?"

If an heart breaking could do any sound, he's sure the others would hear his right now. And as if before it wasn't clear already, now things become clearer. He understands - no, he knows - that he's reliving his memory, and the one he was listening to before, that was one of those radio calls. He knows it, even before the screen turns black just to make another scene appear. He's standing in front of Clarke in Sanctum, the first day they got there. "Trust me I know the feeling..." Clarke's voice sounds sad, and only now, after he's seen it - relived it — again, he notices something else too. "I'm sorry I couldn't respond all those years. Madi told me." he says. Clarke scoffs, "Of course she did."

The screen turns black right after. He takes a few seconds - the ones they evidently leave him — to try and process the whole thing. At first, he has no idea if he can trust them enough to know they actually have Clarke's lost radio calls to him. Honestly, how? But he remembers they just showed him a part of his own memories. Seen by his point of view. And suddenly, the thought of these people — whoever they are — having her calls, sounds like the less ridiculous thing now. He tries and figures what that means... he never really thought about what she said all those years. Part of him, didn't let him. It hurt too much to think how much time she spent by herself or without him, for how long she had to survive. It hurt too much to think about everything she wanted to tell him and he never got the chance to hear. He never got the chance to ask her about it either. It starts again, right where it left off:

" _Anyway. I found this. I actually- Well, I found many other things..._ " pause. " _I found... I found Jasper's suicide note._ " Bellamy frowns. A long pause. Then she hears her sniffing. His heart clenches. " _Part of me thinks Jasper had the right idea. What's the point if all there is is pain and suffering?_ " she scoffs, " _Real cheerful Clarke. I'm sorry. Don't mind me, okay, I haven't had water in two days._ " Bellamy closes his eyes. Make it stop, just make it stop,,. just fucking make it stop. " _I need to find some soon, or I..._ " she trails off, and Bellamy opens his eyes again. " _I don't think I'm gonna-_ " Clarke trails off again, a longer pause this time. Bellamy's chest aches like a thousands knives stabbed his chest. He hears Clarke sighing, " _Anyway..._ " she clears her throat, " _I doubt you can hear me on this piece of crap radio. But in case this is the last time I get to do this, I just want to say..._ " Pause. Bellamy's breath itches. He stops breathing, his ears alerted. "Please, don't feel bad about leaving me here... you did what you had to do." pause. A very painful one, then " _I'm proud of you._ "

Bellamy didn't notice it before, but he opens his mouth, tasting something salt... it's his tears, he realizes.

* * *

The take his helmet off a few minutes later. Now, Bellamy gets what Anders meant with torture. Seriously, Bellamy would've preferred Anders handcuffing him to a chair and using the most painful, best historically known torture methods against him, and it still would've hurt less than hearing that.

Hearing Clarke talking to him, hearing everything she'd told him in six whole years and that he never got to hear.

He now knows that's what awaits him. Still, he doesn't know the purpose.

Anders walks back with firm steps just a few seconds later.

"How'd the first seat go, Bellamy?" He asks him in such a kind and nice tone that Bellamy would punch him in his nose so hard to hurt his knuckles, if he wasn't tied.

He clenches his jaw, cheeks still wet with tears. And asks quietly, "Why are you doing this?" He hates how sad his voice sounds.

Anders must notice it too, as he smiles. "I see it was excellent." he nods to himself. "You know, Bellamy, I'd actually not tell a subject this before the time... but I like you." Anders admits, "I'm not lying, I do. So I'm going to answer to at least two of your questions, in total honesty. Go ahead. Just two, though."

Bellamy narrows his eyes at the man for a while, pondering his next words firmly.

There are actually a bunch of questions in his head right now — very important ones, questions that could help him understand how to get out of here or who they are or what they want. Sure, he does not have the certainty Anders will be honest, but trying doesn't hurt, right?

Yet, it looks like he can't even think about anything but two lingering, painful things right now.

The first one?

He clears his throat before talking. "Are you going to keep doing this? Making me listen to— to that. Do you really have all of them? Is this really the training?" his voice cracks a little.

Anders lifts the corner of his lips, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Yes, yes... and yes." he answers firmly. "To all of them."

Bellamy swallows. He so needs to ask him something useful. Something.. else.

The second one?

"Why?" he simply lets out.

The man in front of him doesn't show any reaction. He just looks down at Bellamy, and with a neutral tone, he declares, "Because you will be trained to kill her, Bellamy."

* * *

**_Week II._ **

Bellamy's noticed that he cannot see the outside. It wasn't something that had caught his attention until he heard two guards talking about now it has been raining the whole week, and it just came to him that he couldn't see it nor hear it. His room didn't have windows. He quickly figured that wasn't a coincidence, but on purpose, just another one of those twisted points that Anders' plan is made of.

It's been a week since Bellamy's here and he still hasn't fully figured out Anders' last words to him. He hasn't come to take him again after that day, and as suspicious it sounds, he doesn't mind having some time to figure a plan out. But for what concerns his latest discover, he truly, really, has no idea what Anders and his crew's intentions are. He said killing Clarke.

First of all, how does he know Clarke? (he asks himself the same question about himself, obviously). And why does he want to kill her? He's dealt with a big amount of people wanting to kill Clarke, sure, that's not the first time he hears that. But something just doesn't feel right about someone coming out of the blue and kidnapping him, bringing him to a new, weird, unknown planet and training him to kill Clarke. (Clarke has already died in a new, weird, unknown planet not long ago and he’s had to bring her back to life with his own breath, thank you very much.) 

Second: why does he want him to kill Clarke? And most importantly, what makes him think he's gonna do it?

He'd rather kill himself. Obviously.

But he genuinely has been struggling for the whole week, thinking about how exactly he's gonna convince him. Yes, the word brainwashed has been mentioned here and there in the hallways and, yes, he's thought about that, but what makes him confused is: what makes Anders think that making Bellamy listen to Clarke's radio calls will trick him into killing Clarke?

He's honestly been thinking about it, and nothing comes to his mind. He gets it, it's a torture. It really is. But why would that somehow convince him to kill her? To hate her enough to end her life? He's never hated her. If anything, hearing the radio calls and listening with his own ears everything he's missed — everything she's been through without him — would just make him hate himself even more, no one else. And that is proved by the way his heart clenched the moment he heard her saying she was proud of him.

Clarke was proud of him.

For using his head. For leaving her in a burning planet to die.

His heart hurts at the thought of it... but he's been fighting himself every night the last week to not think about it. Not because he doesn't think he deserves the pain — he does, he knows he does deserve that even more for leaving her — but because he knows that's what Anders wants. Breaking him slowly. He can't let that happen, nor for himself, nor his friends, who are out there and will probably be the next.

However, his determination to staying strong and showing a silver face is hardly threatened tonight.

It's the first time Anders takes him after last week — after the very first time he's heard what he assumes was Clarke's very first radio calls. He doesn't know what to expect (actually, he pretty much does and even knows what's expecting him) but one thing is sure: the fear that was absolutely non existent the first time they took him and he thought they were gonna torture him in traditional ways, now is way more present. It's a feeling in his chest, telling him he's going to have to hear that — and worse — again.

They bring him to the same room and make him seat to the same chair, with the same helmet, and — if his memory isn't betraying him — the same guards.Anders, of course, is there too.

"Last time you said I had a possibility of asking you two questions. Are you going to give me this chance again?" Bellamy asks while the guards make sure his hands are tied to the chair.

"No, that was a one time thing. No more questions, or, better, answers, for you. I know you gave a lot of questions, but many of them will be answered throughout the session."

Bellamy stares at him, eyes fixed on his enemy's. "I just need to know something. Just one thing." Somehow, he thinks insisting will work.

And he's right.

"We'll see about that, depending on how this seat goes." He makes a slight nod with his head to the guards and they push the helmet down. Bellamy swallows thickly.

And there it starts again.

_ii._

" _Bellamy_." He'd lie, badly lie to himself, if said he didn't think about her voice saying his name every night the past week. Hearing it again had made it difficult for him to think about anything else. " _It's been 54 days. I've been driving the rover around for a while, looking for food and water... Don't worry, I found some._ " obviously, he can't see her. But he feels like she's slightly smiling. She knows her well enough to know that's her tone when she's smiling. He loves it. " _It's been rough days..._ " she swallows, or at least he hears so, and she makes an unusual longer pause. Her tone is colder when she talks again. " _It's been rough. I've—_ " another pause, " _I've been struggling... with loneliness more than I thought I would._ " these are the words that deeply hurt him. They go straight to his heart and he can't help it - no matter how much he wants to show Anders no reaction, no frustration, no hurt. It's a moment and he gasps, swallows through his dry throat and stopping an exhale that would've been too heavy. She's been lonely. Six years and seven days far from him. He knew damn well, had dreamt about it — in his nightmares — and had imagined her on the ground more than a handful of times back in the ark when he was in the phase of denial about her being dead. And every time, every damn time he imagined her smiling. But it had come to his mind that her smile was not the most realistic thing in that scenario, and now that he's hearing it coming from her own mouth, it just feels all too real and raw and a little bit too much for him. " _I just feel like I lost everything. Everything... my father, my mother, all my friends.... You_." he tries not to gasp at him being mentioned in a separate category, all by his own. It warms his heart and at the same time it breaks it.

He sighs heavily. It's already worse than the first time. " _Just so you know, no, I haven't read Jasper's letter. I've been wanting to... it's actually very hard not to._ " pause. " _Somehow, I think it'd made me feel close to someone... someone else, here. But I won't. It wouldn't be right. I'll keep it to myself, and wait to give it to Monty... it's for him, after all. He's the only one who should read it..._ " a pause. She sniffs. " _Tell Monty I'm sorry, please. For all of it... I know Jasper died hating me. I didn't want to... take Maya away from him. I never wanted any of that..._ " Bellamy closes his eyes and swallows. He wants — needs — her to know she never had to take the blame by herself. She didn't kill Maya. They did. He told her, back when they returned to Arkadia that day, and she didn't believe him. She took all the blame — I bear it, so they don't have to — and left him for three months.

“ _He should be there with you guys. He deserved that._ "You should have been there with us, that's what he immediately thinks. " _Anyway,”_ she pauses. " _I don't even know if I'll be able to give it to Monty. I guess it's still soon to talk about it, anyway. Good news, I think I found a source of water. Drinkable? It looks like it is. I've tried it... I'll tell you about it._ " Pause. " _You know... I've been thinking... thinking a lot about everything that led us here. Sometimes — probably just to make myself feel better, I fear — I tell myself I did what I had to do. It's what we all tell ourselves, right? And sometimes it's true. Like when I told you you did what you had to do.._." her tone is quieter and Bellamy feels it, feels it inside of his chest, when she says " _about leaving me here. You really did what you had to do, Bellamy. That was the wisest, most responsible, best choice you've made. You're alive, everyone up there, is alive thanks to you. And, hey, I'm alive, too._ " he squeezes his hand in fists, his nails hurting his palm, but he can't stop, he just can't stop. “But other times... I mean, I might have avoided many deaths until now. If I had made a different choice-"

"It's was never your fault, you had no choice." it comes out of Bellamy's mouth without him realizing it. He blinks a couple of times, surprised not only by him vocalizing his thoughts without wanting to, but also by the fact that he in fact can talk now. He doesn't know what changed. He just knows he now can.

" _Maybe it would've been different. I used to think that life is about more than just surviving, but I'm not sure anymore. Animals don't feel guilty when they kill... they just do it. They kill.. or they get killed. I told myself that every life I took was for a reason. But the truth is... the other side had reasons, too. The grounders, the mountain men... even Alie. Their reasons to want us dead were the same as ours. It was us or them. Kill or be killed, simple as that._ " pause. " _So what now? What becomes of the commander of death when there's no one left to kill? I guess we'll find out. Here's where my fight is over. The question is... who am I now?" a long pause. "Wait 'till you see this place, it's like the death wave jumped over the entire valley._ " she's upset when she talks next, he can feel it, " _Unfortunately, the radiations didn't. I've lost track of how many bodies we've burned since reaching the ground."_

And he feels it. His chest. It's heavy, because he knows. He lost track of it, too. A few named come to his mind... Finn and Lincoln among them. It's hard not to think about them now. He remembers the night they burned Lincoln's body clearly. He remembers the pain of losing yet another person, ally, friend. He remembers the fire, and all of his friends around the pyre whereLincoln's and Sinclair's bodies lied, wrapped in shreds and surrounded by flames. He remembers Octavia's screams... even too vividly. The way she couldn't even look into his eyes. Or look at him at all. Only then, Bellamy feels something he hadn't felt in just a while, at least since he was there at the white building. Guilt. Having Lincoln being killed is one of his worse regrets, and it wasn't hard to hate himself after that. All that pain and suffering, it all comes back in a second and Bellamy almost misses a breath. He swallows, even though he knows it's too late when the monitor beeps outside the helmet. But he can't stop it now, not when the vivid memory of all the pain he caused to the people be loved is haunting him. It's always been there, but sometimes it comes alive and reminds him of what he's done. Of who he is. Of how much pain he's caused. Just because of him, of him, of him. If Anders wanted Bellamy to hate Clarke, hate her enough to kill her and succeed his mission, then he got it all wrong. If there's someone who Bellamy is starting to hate, more and more, it's himself.

Clarke's voice comes again.

" _God, this would be so much easier if I knew you were alive... if I knew I was gonna see you again._ " He doesn't have time to process his feelings after this — nor how it deeply hurts — because the screen turns itself on again, just like the last time.

Bellamy swallows, not expecting anything good.

He's not surprised, but he still gaps, when he sees Clarke in front of him. A younger Clarke. She's... beautiful. But she looks tired. Tired of all the fighting. He recognizes the moment even before the memory starts playing... and there's something else he recognizes about it. The frustration of that day, the words he used... the bitter taste in his tongue after their fight, after she screamed for his name in vane.

"Please, tell me that going to war is not what you want..." she begs, as confused by his behavior as he remembers she looked that day.

Bellamy whispers those words with his old self. “We've been in way since we landed. At least Pike understands that."

"Pike is the problem!" she blurts out, shakes, "This is isn't who you are!"

Bellamy closes his eyes as his words start playing. "This.. is who I've always been. And I let you... and Octavia and Kane convince me that we could trust these people when they have shown over and over who they are, and I won't let anyone else die for that mistake!"

He feels so much rage in his own voice, and so much anger that is now way long gone. But he sweeps his eyes over Clarke's face and her next words - though he remembers them - feel so close to him.

"Bellamy... I need you. And we don't have much time."

'She needed you, idiot. She needed you, and you handcuffed her to a table and left her there.' he thinks.

"You need me?" he sounds so hurt. Just so hurt. He remembers it now, though. It was one of the worst sensations ever... knowing that, as much as she needed him, she didn't need him as much as he had needed her, when she was gone.

"Yes, I do. I need the guy... who wouldn't let me pull that lever in Mt. Weather by myself-"

"You left me. You left everyone."

 _That hurt_.

"Bellamy—"

"Enough, Clarke! You're not in charge here. And that's a good thing because people die when you're in charge..."

That's not true. God how bad he wants her to know that's not true. That's not true, he sees it now. It was never her fault, and he can't believe he let her think that. And not once, not even once, she'd let him think the same. She took the blame for bad things so easily for all of them.

He feels nauseous.

"...You were willing to let a bomb drop on my sister! Then, you made a deal with Lexa who left us in Mt. Weather to die and forced us to kill everyone who helped us! People who trusted me!"

He sees tears well in Clarke's eyes.

The monitor starts beeping louder.

He doesn't feel his palms anymore.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for leaving. I knew I could... because they had you."

Black.

And silence, apart from the monitor.

Suddenly, thought, even that one feels far, too. Like an padded sound his mind vaguely remembers, and he closes his eyes.

What comes next, is a mix of blurry images and confused sounds; he sees Anders' face — and to his surprise — he looks oddly worried. The guards moving around frenetically. Only them Bellamy notices his breathing is fast, probably too fast, and he's having troubles breathing.

He swallows and gasps for air but all he sees is Anders' face in front of him. A pain coming from his hands is what comes next, and he has no idea where does the blood he sees in his palm come from.

Because there's just a sense of sorrow in his chest. And some words echoing in his ears, even if far, even if quiet, even if probably not true anymore... I need you. I need you. I need you.

* * *

He wakes up in a pool of sweat. He's alone in his room, it's dark — or at least he seems to think it is, or it's what they want him to think — and he's laying in his bed. 

Bellamy takes a deep breath before being able to lift himself on his elbows and scrutinize the room. It's just in that moment that he sees Anders. He's sitting on the chair across from the bed, right in front of the desk Bellamy never used nor touched.

"Good morning, Bellamy."

Bellamy feels nauseous. He decides to ignore the nausea and his head spinning to sit up straight. "What are you doing in my room?" he asks coldly. His voice is raspy.

"I'm just checking on you. You were supposed to wake up now, so I came here to see."

Bellamy frowns. He feels even more confused now. "How- how long have I been sleeping?"

"Fourteen hours." Anders promptly replies.

"Fourt-" Bellamy starts to feel an headache. He presses his fingers against his temples. "How..."

"We gave you something to rest. You had a panic attack, so we gave you some medication to calm you down. We know you haven't been sleeping at all. And it happens, during the sessions... people have panic attacks during the seats all the time. It's exactly the point of facing your worst fears and regrets."

"People have them all the time and you don't stop? You willingly do it? And for want, even? What's the point of all of this?"

"I know you have questions, Bellamy. That's also why I'm here. I'm ready to answer them."

Bellamy's expression softens. "You are?" he questions.

The man nods.

He has to think first. But he knows, knows damn well there's a specific question he needs to have an answer to.

"Why-" he swallows, clenching his jaw, "why do you want me to kill Clarke?"

Anders shows a little smirk that Bellamy doesn't miss. It makes him so angry.

"Because she's a threat. And she needs to be killed. But this is all I'll share about us needing her to be gone. Nothing more. We know you two are friends... coleaders."

_Much more than that._

"And there goes my second question." Bellamy starts, "Why do you want _me_ to kill Clarke?"

The question sounds the same, but he knows the emphasis is on a different word now.

Anders doesn't seem to have problems figuring that out.

"Easy," he says. Casually, like he's being on this over and over. "because killing the person you care about the most, is what makes a warrior strong. And we need you to get stronger. We’ll obtain two things with one.”

Bellamy furrows his eyebrows together, and tries to think, think about when his sister stopped being the person he cares about the most and when Clarke took her place. He can't deny it. It'd be useless to do so.

"You know I won't kill her. So why are you even trying?"

"Bellamy..." Anders gets up, heading to the door in a slow pace. "I'll meet you tomorrow for your third seat. At dawn."

And then, Anders simply leaves.

He walks out of the door and leaves Bellamy with even more questions than before, lost in between denial and acceptance of what is life now is.

He lays down again after a while. He slept for so long, yet he feels exhausted.

Bellamy sweeps his eyes over the white ceiling, his heart pounding inside of his chest, and, eventually, he doesn't even know how, he falls asleep all over again. But this time, he does while some words run through his brain.

Anders' words.

" _It's exactly the point of facing your worst fears and regrets."_

* * *

**_Week IV._ **

It's on the last day of his first month there that Bellamy hears it. It's Clarke's final call before a radio silence that will last a week.

Anders explains to him that the radio must have somehow got water on it, because of the rain, and that that's what kept her from using it or — if she used it — the signal wasn't caught.

The call is not sad like some of the others he's been hearing for the past weeks, but it still hits.

It talks about her finding other bodies. She talks about how she burnt them. Madi helped her.

For how hard it is to listen to her calls, Bellamy's been loving listening to her talking about Madi. Despite anything, he's grateful she's had her with herself through all the tears.

Twenty minutes in the call and Bellamy has to smile. Smile. Smile, a genuine one. Smile, something Bellamy hasn't done in he doesn't even remember how long.

And it's all because, while she's talking, Madi arrives.

 _iii_.

" _I feel like all the good- Clarke!_ " Madi's voice turns in and Clarke forgets to lets go off the button. He hears it all. " _You said you would've taught me how to use the gun._ " Madi says. Clarke sighs. " _We've talked about it, Madi. I'll teach you only for eventual self defense. I want you, I need you to be able to protect yourself, but we don't want you to need to kill anyone. Right?_ " Madi agrees. And then, curious, she asks a question, " _How do you know so much about it? Who taught you how to use a gun?_ " And he hears Clarke sighing. When she talks, he feels like she's smiling. She is, in his dreams. " _Bellamy. He taught me everything I needed to know. And so many other things_." Madi counters, on her side, " _Do you think he'd mind teaching me all these other things too, Clarke? Do you?"_ Bellamy ignores the way his smile has turned into a nostalgic expression. " _I don't think he'll, no_." Clarke says, before telling her to go park the rover and get ready for dinner. Clarke turns to the radio again. " _Well, Bellamy. Seems like Madi's eager to meet you." A few seconds of deep silence follow. And then, "I am to see you again, too. Goodnight_."

It stops there.

And that day, weirdly, and strangely, there's no memory following. He gets sent back to his room, and there's where the self loathing starts.

He notices it, it's been easier to listen to her calls, and what's getting harder - on the other hand - is the aftermath of it. Him dealing with all the new information. Him having to process everything. And it's in the dark of his white and silent room that he starts hating himself, with every fiber of his being and, everyday, it's for a new reason.

Tonight, the reason is not having made Madi proud. He forced the flame on her, betraying Clarke's trust. All of that had already hurt in the past, but hearing Madi's thoughts about him just made it all worse.

Today, Bellamy hated himself because of that.

Today, he falls asleep thinking he deserves to die.

* * *

**_Week V._ **

It's been five weeks of the same routine for him. He realized they don't have days that are all for the torture. Sometimes, they let him listen to the calls (yes, sometimes, it's more than one per day.) Others, they show him memories. The memories are almost always about Clarke. Sometimes Octavia pops in it, sometimes Murphy or Raven, one of the 100, but Clarke is always the main focus. Lately, they've showed him the moment she left him after Mt. Weather. He didn't realize how much it would've hurt until he lived it all again. Obviously, he knew how it would've gone even before listening to it and seeing it again from his perspective, but, who knows why, or how, his pathetic heart still hoped she would've stayed, just this time, just a little longer.

Some days, most of the times, they do both. They make him listen to a call and then show him a memory. At first, he wasn't sure of what they wanted to achieve with those. Sure, it would hurt (and it does), maybe it would drive him crazy (he already feels like he is), but how would this help in making him kill clarke voluntarily? The first weeks, he thought they wanted him to hate her. But after a sleepless night — he got it. It came to him like that, at five am just before he was about to finally fall asleep: they didn't want him to start hating Clarke. (was that even possible? he feels like it isn't, in any universe. No, not even in a literal different world.) No, they wanted him to hate himself.

If they only knew... he's already been doing it for far too long.

* * *

**_Week VI._ **

He starts training. And he starts to not feel anything anymore.

He doesn't feel tiredness — he could not sleep for 48 hours and still train the day later — and be doesn't feel hunger. He eats, mechanically, when the guards bring him food, because he knows he's starve without it. But he doesn't feel like he needs it. It's not just physical. He doesn't feel much anymore apart from hatred. He doesn't miss his friends anymore lately, nor Octavia. No, he doesn't even miss Clarke anymore. It's weird, that he wakes up in the morning and he doesn't want to find a way to get out anymore. And he can't get himself to care about how serious and bad that is.

On the sixth week, Bellamy's learns how to resend the hatred he feels for himself, the obit thing he's been feeling lately, towards anything or anyone else. Anders trains him for that. Stays carefully by his side as he fights and successfully wins against one of Bardo's guards.

"You hate yourself. Yes or No?" Anders asks.

"Yes." Bellamy answers, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.

"Now. You hate yourself, because you did bad things. Yes or No?"

"Yes."

"You feel anger toward yourself. Yes or No?"

"Yes."

"Channel the anger toward this person. And... go, Bellamy." Anders steps to the side, and Bellamy grunts, loudly, rushing to the guard and punching them in the face.

He wins easily. The guard will get away with it with just a few scratches.

Anders is proud of him.

Today, Bellamy hates himself simply for believing she was dead, when she in the meanwhile was talking to the stars and hoping for an answer.

*

* * *

**_Week VII._ **

Wake up, eat, radio call, memory, rest, training, eat, sleep.

Wake up, eat, radio call, memory, rest, training, eat, sleep.

Wake up, eat, radio call, memory, rest, training, eat, sleep.

That's the routine of most of Bellamy's days. Sometimes, it's different. He doesn't train everyday, and sometimes they leave him a free day. Today, however, is a full day.

They bring him to the white room not too early, after he's consumed his morning meal.

Lately, the guards don't bring him until the room. He goes willingly, and he willingly goes to sit on the chair and waits for whoever's there, if it's not Anders himself, to put the helmet.

He closes his eyes, automatically, waiting for a Clarke's voice. Her radio calls have turned into the most awaited and at the same time the most frightening moment of the day or the week.

_iiii_.

" _Bellamy, it's been 478 days. Today's rained, thanks god._ " she chuckles, and Bellamy, when once, he would've smiled, doesn't move a muscle. Stays still. Waits for the rest. Waits for it to be over. He doesn't even know what he's waiting for. Maybe, to start feeling something again. " _Anyway... Madi and I went scouting in the valley again today. We found an amazing cave we didn't see before. Inside, it was full of stuff. There were raspberries, too, and I told Madi she could keep them... she loves using them to dye her hair red._ " pause. " _I wish you were here more than yesterday, Bellamy. I don't- I don't know, I know... I'm talking about the others, too, but-_ " she doesn't talk for quite long after that. " _but I just miss you. So much. It's been more than a year and I- I know Earth won't be survivor for you for at least five more years but... I just wish I could know you were there, alive, listening to me. Maybe you are... maybe- maybe you are but you can't talk to me. Maybe Raven hasn't figured how to send signals back yet. That's fine. If that's the case, Bellamy... if that's the case- please, please know that it's okay. If you're just listening to this and you can't talk to me but you'd really, really want to... write it down. Maybe we'll have time after all of this, when you'll come down... maybe, someday, we'll be able to talk again."_ Clarke takes a deep breath, and Bellamy's resolution hasn't been this threatened in days. " _I have faith_." she says. " _Don't give up on me just yet, Bellamy... okay? Because I haven't. I don't think I ever will. I don't think I ever could. Love you, yeah? Gotta go now. Bye, Bellamy._ "

Bellamy's ready to try and let his lately very present apathy do the work for him, but it doesn't work. Her words are digging inside of him again. He tries to ignore how fast his heart is beating all over again, because if his memory isn't betraying him, or if they didn't damage it with every personal memory they've been taking from him, this is the first time he hears Clarke saying "love you" to him. He tries not to give much weight to it. The monitor next to him, betrays him.

"Nervous today, Bellamy?" It's Danielle's voice next to him.

He clears his throat. "I'm fine."

"So you're ready for the memory?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Whenever you want."

It plays.

It starts with a black screen. It always does, actually, but this time... this time it's different. This time, there are small, bright, shining, beautiful dots that cover the black screen. Bellamy closes his eyes and opens them again, but then opens them again. Only after a few seconds, he finally realizes those aren't dots. Those, those are stars.

Bellamy is staring at the _stars_.

Bellamy's in the ark.

And Clarke's dead for him.

The first thing he wants to do, is yell at him.

Yell at him for being so stupid to believe would really not survive. Then, the second one is say he's sorry. He's sorry for everything that has happened front that moment on.

Bellamy on the ark walks away from the window. He recognizes the moment only a few minutes later when him and Raven have a brief conversation, because he often stopped to look at the stars.

Bellamy — his current self — would like to simply disappear when be remembers what's about to happen. He doesn't want to live it again, he doesn't want to, not again... not again.

He enters a cell. The metallic sound of the door getting closed resounds in the space's fascinating silence.

The cell, is _Clarke's_.

There are drawings all over the walls. The floor... too, the floor is covered with them. This isn't the first time he went there, but after they discovered it, no one ever got closer to that cell, only Bellamy. Sometime, he'd spend the night there. Sometimes, he'd go there to talk to Clarke — just like she was doing in the meanwhile through a radio. Sometimes, like this one, he would simply go there to stay in silence.

To cry.

To _grieve_ her.

He sits down on the floor and leans his back against the wall. The drawings there, he knows them by heart. He still to this day remembers them. He wishes him and Clarke had had the opportunity to talk about it, just like she said in the call.

It seems too much for him when it gets worse. He doesn't recall him crying. Instead, this is exactly what happens. Bellamy in the memory cries — sobs even — and all current Bellamy can do is look at him, helpless. He, now, feels what he was feeling back then. He remembers it, how it felt to think Clarke was gone forever, what he went through, what twisted games it played to his heart to wake up and to know she was gone, gone forever, gone for good.

Bellamy can hardly from a known, already felt emotion before, in his heart: it's sadness. He hasn't felt it in a while, lately. He still doesn't feel anything... but sadness. The sobs he hears in the background are his, and he can only close his eyes and force himself to think that time is gone now, because Clarke's alive now. Clarke's alive and she's probably looking for him right now.

Then, why does he not care?

They bring him to his room after that, not pronouncing a word.

Bellamy lets himself fall on his bed without any further word. He hates Anders with every fiber of his being for doing this to him.

He doesn't know for how long he's been laying there when someone opens his room's door. He doesn't turn. He stays on his bed, laying down with his back to the world and his face toward the wall, eyes closed, trying to quietly beg for his heart to feel anything. Anything, apart from the brokenness consuming him alive.

Only when the guards are out — and already at least half an hour has passed — he decides to check what they brought this time.

Bellamy's lips fall open when he sees it.

He recalls Anders telling him "Stimulating certain parts of the brain is an excellence exercise for making it more elastic and disposed for our training, Bellamy. Reading, writing, drawing. All amazing activities that I suggest you."

So today, they brought him a canvas.

It's clean, completely clean, ready to be used. There are the brightest tones of watercolors next to it and Bellamy can barely take a few step towards it.

In another life, this is something he would've bought for Clarke.

Tears prick his eyes because he can barely think about anything that it's not her after seeing this, so he stares, stares, stares at it.

Eventually, a couple of tears do fall from his eyes.

Fuming rage consuming him, because he feels it, feels that he should feel something for her. But he can't bring himself to.

That, however, is the most he's felt in weeks. And, probably, the most he'll feel for the next ones.

_end part I._


	2. PART II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> l  
> i’m really really sorry for the delay. between exams, a pandemic and fandom drama finishing this it’s been harder than i thought, but here we are! i’m so glad i did, and i really hope you guys will like it. 
> 
> let me know!  
> thanks for the support in PART 1, i really appreciated it <3

**_Week VIII._ **

The canvas stays blank. Bellamy doesn't touch it, doesn't put colors in it. He doesn't dare to. He knows that if Clarke was there, she'd turn it into the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen and he feels some kind of sick and bitter controversy in the fact that he'd feel guilty to paint it, but he can't bring himself to feel guilty for being trained to kill her.

Today is the last day of month two.

Outside it's raining but that doesn't bother him. During his staying here, he's got enough time to get used to a lot of things. Rain hitting his window - which is right above his bed (he often looks at the stars whenever he felt lost) - is one thing. Being trained to kill his best friend, is another thing.

Bellamy's also gotten time to think about what killing Clarke would mean. Looking at it from a perspective that includes using his heart and letting emotions blind his opinions, it should hurt. Shouldn't it? It should. He remembers how it was for him on the ring. Yet, he knows it doesn't and knows Anders and his training are responsible for it. He remembers the time Clarke's taught him that his heart is his biggest weapon and weakness at the same time, teaching him how to use his head to be the leader she deserved by her side. He surely wouldn't have thought that knowing how to use his head and turn his heart off would've been useful to kill her once and for all. But then, again... isn't it supposed to hurt more than this?

Anders' guards are punctual as per usual. They bring him to the usual room and while walking to his seat Bellamy overhears Anders talking about some kind of experiment they have for him. He hears the word... simulation?   
But he's been taught to not ask. So, he doesn't.

When Bellamy sits down and lets the guard tie him to the chair, he still doesn't know if it's a radio call or a memory that is waiting for him. He doesn't know what to hope for, but he's sure of one thing: if reliving himself grieving Clarke up on the ark didn't shatter his heart into million pieces like it did the very first time he himself _lived_ that, he's not sure he's worth saving at this point.

iiiii.  
" _Bellamy, it's been 1056 days. Today... it's been rough. Madi has fallen asleep early after we ate nothing but berries. Our meat stockpile is beginning to run low and animals start to be way less frequent around here. Not even birds fly like they used to. I know what that is, but—"_ a beat, then. _"I don't know how much more we can do it without proteins. Madi's surely handling it worse than I am. She's weaker day by day..."_ a long pause after this follows, pause that Bellamy doesn't seem to mind. Usually, he'd use it to get a grip of himself, but he doesn't need to, because he doesn't feel like he used to. _"...anyway, what about good news. It's almost been three years." Something about her tone suggests Bellamy that she's smiling. "I still can't believe it sometimes. You know... some days I ask myself what would've happened if you had stayed with me. I mean... you know, with nightblood. If you had it, you could've survived too. Do you think you would've wanted to?_ " Bellamy knows the pause they put next is to make him reflect. After two months, he's still not sure what Anders wants from him. He says emotions make you weak, vulnerable, not a good soldier. But it's looks like emotions is all his trials are trying to bring out from him. Or maybe it's a test. If it is, from the way his heart starts beating faster for the first time in weeks when Clarke indirectly asks him that, he feels like he's failing it. " _I would've loved it, I'm not gonna lie. You would've been amazing with Madi, and I know that having someone— not someone, you — here, to talk to would've made it all easier."_ Clarke sighs, _"But I also knows they need you." She says nostalgically. "They all need you, Bellamy. I know you're doing an amazing job with them. Leading them has always been your highest responsibility. I'm proud of you." A light giggle escapes her lips, "I feel like I've been saying this way too often... but it's the truth. Or it could be the hunger, who knows." pause. "I still have hope for you. I don't think I'll ever lose it. Good night, Bellamy."_

Right after the call, they don't bring him to the training room like they usually do. Anders stops by for a little while more to the white room, and although they free his hands and feet, they tell him to not leave the chair.

"What is it?" Bellamy asks, rubbing his wrists.

Anders, who's standing in front of him with his hands behind his back, is looking at him. Bellamy tries to examine his expression but, as usual, it's pretty cryptic.

"How have you been feeling, Bellamy?"

He frowns, because he doesn't remember the last time anyone has asked him that.

"What do you mean?"

"We know you've been having nightmares. We hear you. Unfortunately this is an expected side effect. You're handling it pretty well, though. Keep going like this, and you'll see it will be repaid."

"Repaid, you say?"

"Yes."

Bellamy scoffs. "What's my reward? Killing Clarke?"

Anders shakes his head. "That, is just something you need to do in order to get your final prize." With an unmistakeable pride in his chest, Anders finally declares, "Freedom. Freedom for your soul. For the glory and grace of the pastor."

Bellamy scoffs again and looks away. He's never believed in any of this bullshit. Every time Anders opens his mouth about the pastor, it reminds him a little of the way Jaha acted towards the key, and how much he thought how crazy he'd gotten. Faith had never been his thing.

"I know you don't believe in it yet." Anders says almost like he's in his mind (at this point, if he was Bellamy wouldn't even be surprised). "But you will. And you'll gain freedom. Freedom from everything that makes you vulnerable."

Bellamy lets out a bored sigh. "Are we done?"

"Not yet." Anders replies after a short silence. "First, I must ask. Do you know who Octavia Blake is?"

At her name, Bellamy furrows his eyebrows together. Of course he remembers who his sister is.

"Yes," he says, "My sister."

"Very good." Anders declares. "Do you know who John Murphy is? Raven Reyes? Echo? Emori? Madi?"

Bellamy doesn't struggle to remember, so he's not sure why Anders is asking him those questions. At his affermative answers, Anders' smile widens.

"Clarke Griffin?"

Bellamy's expression darkens. "I do." he shakily says, not sure if he should've lied.

"Very good." Anders repeats, once again. "She's coming, Bellamy. Time runs slower here, so it won't be for another month or two for us, but she'll arrive. And when she will, what will we do of her, Bellamy?"

It's not like he doesn't want to answer, he simply does not know what to say. It's silence all he shares but then, then out of nowhere, without him wanting of meaning to say anything, his mouth does it for him, like uncontrollable. He surely does not control it.

"Kill." his dark voice says.

Bellamy frowns. His mind has been playing twisted games for a while by now but this is surely the least funny of them all.

He relaxes his forehead because he's not sure of how or when he's decided it. When or how he's agreed to that. When or how it's happened that he wants to kill Clarke Griffin. But he said it, and it looks like he'll keep saying.

And basing on Anders' expression, it looks like he'll do it, too.

* * *

**_Week IX._ **

When they don't make him listen a radio call, they usually make him relive a memory. They tend not to do it in the same seat because — as Anders say — it could be too much but Bellamy's not sure _anything_ could be too much at this point, considering he's been feeling pretty much empty.

After either of them, however, they usually bring him to the train room for training.

Today, once brought there, he hasn't found a guard waiting for him, but Anders himself.   
He's not wearing his usual long white tunic, but a training fit, and Bellamy knows this means he's upgraded. They don't let anyone train with Anders, as much as he knows.

"Let's see what you can do, should we?" Anders asks him in a challenging tone.

Bellamy prepares to obey. That's pretty much everything he does lately, and, surprisingly (and this makes him worry, too) he doesn't mind it.   
And he's never been a follower.

He falls to the ground more than a handful of times, but, during the last battle of the day, he gets to trick Anders and grabs him by his calf, making him fall. As he's about to hurl a kick in Bellamy's gut, Bellamy pulls him toward his own body and Anders fall on his back again, groaning at the bump.   
Bellamy, breathing heavily and proud of himself, holds out his hand for the man. Anders gratefully takes it and the next thing he knows, his hand is on Bellamy's shoulder, tapping it and filling it with reassuring words.

"That's good, Bellamy. That's very good."

* * *

**_Week X._ **

Within the last two weeks, Anders has introduced him to the highest tier — as well as last — step of his training: simulations. He knew he heard it right.

And the first time they actually made him undergo a simulation they, obviously, didn't tell him beforehand.

In today's call, Clarke talked to him about various things — just like she used to — but she lingered a little bit more on a specific subject. Now, Bellamy hasn't been feeling almost anything for a while by now, but he'd swear he felt his heart thrumming hard against his chest when Clarke mentioned Mt. Weather.  
She didn't talk a lot into details, but it looked like she was nostalgic. Of what, Bellamy couldn't tell, but she went on and on about how grateful she was to have him by her side when she had to make one of the hardest decisions of her life and pull that damn lever down.

Bellamy wasn't sure which should have hurt the most, _that_ or the simulation after that, but none of them really mattered to him anymore.

It all started with Clarke.   
He wasn't sure of how it all happened — and in the moment, it all felt _too_ real — but they were both prisoners in Bardo and Bellamy _knew_ they were in Bardo because he knew the cells they had by now.  
Still not sure of the how, Bellamy had managed to get out of the cell and he was helping Clarke out when she, heavily breathing and shaking, probably from the fear, had whispered to him to kill Anders.  
Bellamy was confused at first. Why would Clarke want to kill him, purely out of revenge? She could've escaped with him. Ran away, they could free themselves, they weren't being held at gunpoint, yet she wanted to kill him. Or, correction, execute him. That wasn't Clarke, but it all looked so real it couldn't be anything but her. Then again, that's the point of a simulation, to look _real. Isn't it?_

Bellamyagreed _._ And so the both of them walked through the hallways of the building straight to Anders' office, determined to kill him to end the war they didn't even know they were fighting.   
Right when they stepped inside, catching Anders by surprise — what a coincidence — Bellamy realized. Realized that Clarke was about to _kill_ him.   
Kill his leader.

Not sure of when his brain had decided to do that, Bellamy had taken the gun out of Clarke's hands. And after a confused expression from Clarke's side and an even more confusing series of events, Clarke was standing with a knife at Anders' throat.   
Bellamy stared. His adam apple bobbed in his throat when he realized she was going to kill him, and that he had no choice.

That, that was the moment he aimed a gun at Clarke. And then... he simply pulled the trigger.

He was thankful that they brought him back before he could see Clarke's agonizing body to the ground.   
The first Bellamy saw after the simulation was Anders' pleased face, pleased by the fact that he had successfully passed the test.  
He told him he did a good job. That he had officially started dedicating to the cause.

What the cause was, Bellamy wasn't sure, but it looked way more terrifying than it had been before he lived that simulation.

And through nightmares and panic attacks, Bellamy arrived to the third week of month 3.

* * *

**_Week XI._ **

Today a memory is waiting for him.   
When they hit play of that white little remote Anders always carries with himself, he swallows down to concentrate. And waits.

At first it's all black, and when the screen turns on and Clarke's features start getting clearer, Bellamy needs to adjust to the sight.

He thinks he's - the himself of this moment - needs to. But that's not the case. It's the Bellamy of the memory that needs to. It takes him a few moments to realize that he was sleeping.

His mind is a treasure of so many different and precious and painful and happy but most of all sad memories, so a few minutes pass before he figures out what he's actually reliving. But as soon things get clearer, he's not sure the ability to repress any emotion his heart feels will be enough. Clarke's sitting on a chair in front of him. She looks... frustrated. Visibly frustrated. She's crying, he remembers before hearing it in his own memory.

He slowly gets closer to her, the echo of her sniffling covering the steps he takes to get to the table. She's beautiful, indeed. Bellamy can't help but notice the long hair.

"If I'm on that list, you're on that list." he says, with a tone that resembles a lot to a desperate yet soft prayer.

He remembers that he meant it, he really meant it. Because there was no world or circumstance where he could've accepted surviving without her.

She shakes her head. "Bellamy, I can't..."

"Write it down...write it down, or I will."

Clarke shakes her head again, and for a second Bellamy feels what she was feeling that day, just like he did in that exact moment. Almost surrender, like the sweet reminder that there had to be an end and that one seemed a lot like the end to her. To him, it would've seemed one if her name had never appeared on that list. So, he wrote it down.

"So what now?" Clarke asks.

"Now we put it away and hope we never have to use it."

Although it's been a while, he remembers the familiar ache in his chest. He doesn't feel it now, he couldn't, no, but he remembers it. What they were doing was praying something that was meant to happen wouldn't have happened.  
It was hoping against hope.

"You still have hope?"

"We're still breathing." Bellamy says, and he places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Clarke gladly accepts it, leaning in the touch with her cheek, and then softly carressing his hand with hers.

"Get some sleep." he says.   
And then he leaves, because - he remembers this, too - there was no point in furthering the conversation when they were talking about life and death matters.

Was there space for his feelings, there?

The answer, ever since he met Clarke and they had started saving the world, had always been _no_.

If he had felt anything in the last weeks other than a great and pure hatred for himself, he would grieve that moment.

He would grieve her.

He would try and close his eyes to remember the way the room smelt like her that day.

He would feel his heart being warmed by the deep comfort and rare protection he had felt that day, sleeping next to her and her only.

He would try to remember how his heart jumped a beat when he saw his name on the list in her calligraphy. Like she was saying...

 _I want you to survive_...

And the way she was struggling to put her name there, too, like she was saying

_...and I want you to do it with me._

He would definetely smile at the way she sighed out of relief when he, with his words and his touch, had managed to make the weight they carried every day on their shoulders just a tiny less heavy.

And, finally, he would've found some time to cry, because writing her name on that damn list hadn't really worked, because just some weeks later he had found himself on a spaceship, looking at the empty seat and mumbling may we meet again to her.

But all of this can't happen, because he's been taught that these feelings just distract him.

So he won't.

And maybe he will think of her before going to sleep, or maybe he won't, but he still won't bring himself to care about her.

Because the Bellamy Blake in that memory, is finally gone.

###

He wakes up differently this morning.

He blinks one eye open, and then the other, and he doesn't quite understands what's different this morning, but he knows something is.   
His gut is telling him so.

When Bellamy faces the door of his room, however, the answer is clear: it's open.

He feels weird about it. One part of him knows Anders wouldn't leave it open, not even now that he's close to his graduation day.

He wouldn't even know how to escape the building at this point, the walls of this place being the only thing he's stared at in months.

Curious and confused at the same time, Bellamy gets closer to the door, but with caution. As soon as he steps outside, he looks around, trying to understand what's happened here while he was asleep.  
And it's in that morning that he sees her.

"Bellamy!" Clarke quietly says, quickly running towards him like she's just seen a ghost, "Finally! Come here, come here-" she's breathing heavily and she's carefully looking around the whole time, her blue eyes don't meet his not even for a second. "We need to go." she quietly says. "We need- we need to go. Now."

"But-"

He would like to ask more, to know what's happened, how she's got there so fast, how any of that happened, and how there are no guards around which is already weird, but there's no time and he feels Clarke's hand on his shortly later.  
"No time. C'mon!"

They run down the hallway for a while, fast but not too much, still careful to their surroundings.

"Have you come here for me?" he asks while they're running.

"Of course I have, Bellamy." she answers while looking for any possible danger on her right. She does the same to her left, and then "I can't believe I finally found you. But we don't have much time, okay? Do you trust me, Bellamy?"

"I- I do." he stutters and she shakes her head.

"You need to trust me. They want you to kill me, Bellamy."

"How do you even k-"

"It doesn't matter." she counters, getting closer. "What matters is you trusting me to get the hell out of here, okay? You can't kill me, Bellamy."

"But... but the pastor..." he struggles to say it, but he manages to, letting her hand go, "The pastor... and Anders- they said, they want-"

"Shh." Clarke gets closer and cups his face into her hands, touch that makes him shiver. "Doesn't matter what they want. What do _you_ want?"

It takes him a long silence to finally give in. But her eyes are staring at him and he just can't say anything but the truth here.

"You." he whispers, and a small smile appears on Clarke's lips.

"Good. Then let's get the hell out of here."

They stop at the elevator. Clarke frowns. The words don't open, even when Clarke presses the button repeatedly.

"No. No no no. No! I think... I think a pin is needed. Like a- pin or something, here, in the keyboard, to make it work."

"Oh." Bellamy's been in this elevator tons of times by now, so he does remember it. He thanks god he does.

And it's when he puts the pin that he realizes what he's done. He's agreeing to go away with Clarke. To betray Anders and everyone who's counting on him. He's officially turned against him. And he doesn't know how to feel.

But there's not a lot of time for him to figure it out, because the doors of the elevator open right after, and Anders is standing there.  
Standing there with a gun in his hand and a grin on his lips.

"Oh, Bellamy... where do you think you're going?"

Clarke's face gets pale all of a sudden.   
She swallows, because she's been held at a gunpoint. That's whom Anders' gun is pointed at.

"Anders... wait." Bellamy pleads. He holds his hands in surrender, trying to make him reason. "Wait. Please. Don't- don't. Just wait. I'm coming with you, I promise. Just... just let her go."

Anders shakes his head in disapproval. "I thought I told you what would've happened if you betrayed me, Bellamy."

And then, the loudest sound he's ever heard.  
Anders shoots. He shoots Clarke.  
He shoots Clarke in the stomach.

She falls on her back with her eyes widened, her hands trying to limitate the bleeding un vane.

Bellamy watches horrified. It all seems like a dream to him, or, worse, like a nightmare.

Bellamy kneels down on the floor, watching Clarke's agonizing breathes with horror in his eyes.

Like he's watching his own death scene.

He's too shocked to say anything. So, he shakily holds out his hand and then carefully grabs Clarke's bloody one, squeezing it.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." he whispers.

Anders kneels down next to him when Clarke's last breath escapes her lips.

He uses the gun to tilt Bellamy's chin up and make him look at him.   
"Understood, Bellamy? You do not, in any case... betray me."

And then... then, he snaps out of it.

A quick look in his surroundings through his heavy breath and high heart rate suggests it to him... but Anders is the one who confirms it.

"Do you understand what happens, if you betray me? You'd never have the chance to say bye to her. If _you_ kill her, however... you can take all the time you need."

_A simulation._  
_It was a fucking simulation._

* * *

**_Week XII._ **

_"I must kill Clarke Griffin."_  
_"I must kill Clarke Griffin."_  
_"I must kill Clarke Griffin."_

"That's impressive. But I never doubted your work, Anders."

The Pastor visited today, for the first time since he's here. Because today is a very important day: it's the day of Bellamy's graduation.

According to what Anders says, Clarke and the others will come within the next few days, and he says it with a proud and smug smile on his face because he's very proud of his creation.

He created a lethal and precise murderer for the greatest good, or these are the Pastor's words anyway, even though Bellamy's convinced he was already one way before all of this.

The only thing they do today, is show him a call.

Before making him seat, Anders informs him that this is the last call ever they have from her, because after that, everything went down. Eligius came down and just after that they did.

At the once sweet memory of him finding out Clarke was alive after grieving her for six years, Bellamy doesn't really react. Anders smiles and calls it a success.

 _iiiiii._  
_"Bellamy, if you can hear me... if you're alive, it's been 2,199 days since Praimfaya. I don't know why I still do this everyday. Maybe it's my way of staying sane."_ and this is when he thinks about the same exact thing Clarke told him in Sanctum, right a few moments before everyone started going mad. He remembers thinking he would've kissed her back then if things had been easier, but he doesn't really have it in himself to be sorry he didn't now, because he doesn't really have it in himself to feel anything at all. " _Not forgetting who I am...who I was. It's been safe for you to come down for over a year now. Why haven't you?"_

The pause after that is short, because Anders arrives with the Pastor and they both look at him with such pride it'd make Bellamy roll his eyes if there was enough Bellamy left in him by now. They look at him like he's their best experiment result, their best success. 

When they bring him to his room, they tell him he's done an amazing job.   
As to Bellamy and what he feels... he feels nothing. It's strange and freeing at the same time, because it's never happened that he doesn't feel anything, obviously, but he's somehow glad that the not feeling anything at least applies to the sense of guilt he's been carrying with himself since when he has memory, too. He's free from it and he knows he should be feeling scared, somewhat frightened, even, because if they managed to do that to him, to completely erase everything that made him human, then there's nothing left fighting for.

The hatred towards himself, however... is not gone.

Once in his bed, he thinks about Anders' words to him before leaving him with the recommendation to rest.   
"I know you still don't like the idea of killing Clarke despite your current status. You may not feel anything at all, you may be dedicated to the cause, but I know there's still a small part of you that knows all of this is wrong. This is when I'm going to reassure you: it is never wrong, if it's for a greater good."

And this is what Bellamy thinks about as he manages to find the perfect position to sleep: Anders was wrong, because as much as he tries to feel anything at all, he doesn't know how to make himself slightly dislike the idea of killing her. He did it, he thinks, they all did it: they broke him.

And from there... everything goes down.

###

**_# CLARKE #_ **

Clarke widens her eyes at the sight. Bellamy. He's standing in front of her. At first, she's way too astonished to notice anything else. But then, the first thing her eyes capture are the little differences. He's wearing a white suit, white shoes, white gloves, white helmet under his arm. His beard is gone, she noticed it right away. His hair is shorter, and curlier. All of that contributes to make him look exactly like the past Bellamy. He looks younger, and different, just like the person he was before Praimfaya, Clarke thinks. However, there's something missing about that. His eyes... his look, it's not the same.  
She tries and swallows the fear. She keeps the impression for herself.

"Bellamy?" she asks, with the voice that resembles a beg. She's so glad. So fucking glad to see him again. "What happened? What'd they do to you?"

Anders speaks before Bellamy can. "We just improved his brain, Clarke."

"What?" Clarke spins her head to the man, who's shaking her head in disapproval.

"You look really exhausted. Where are your friends, Clarke?"

She sighs. "Gone." she says, quietly.

"Gone?"

"They- I don't know... but you do." she quickly adds, narrowing her eyes at Anders. "Don't pretend like you didn't separate us on purpose. This is your planet, you control everything here." she turns to gaze at Bellamy again, before looking back at the man who's still an amused impression on his face, like Clarke's got it all - or _almost_ \- right. "So my question is... why are they somewhere else, and I'm here?"

Anders gets closer, hands locked behind his back. "Because Bellamy's here."

Clarke notices Bellamy isn't handcuffed.   
She doesn't know what the hell is going on, but her gut suggests her to run. She would, if she could.

"Bellamy..." Clarke begs, newly looking at him. She frowns, confused, frustrated, and yes, even a little bit scared, too, "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say, Clarke?"

She swallows thickly. His voice is... it's deep. Deeper than usual anyway. And it's just not that, it's different. It sounds... dark.

"I- I want you to tell me what's going on. What-" Anders cuts her off by getting closer. "Don't you dare come closer." Clarke barks through gritted teeth, but Anders smiles.

"I just want to free your hands and feet, Clarke."

And he does it.   
Clarke hisses and caresses her wrists with her hands, full of red marks. But immediately later, she gets up, walking to Bellamy. "Hey..." She throws her arms around him, pulling him in a hug.

Bellamy doesn't return it. In fact, he doesn't move.

If there's something, one certainty Clarke could bring to the grave with her, is how Bellamy's an inexhaustible source of comfort. He's been it, for her, since the day he softly took the rusted tool off her hand at the drop ship and told her that who they are, and who they need to be to survive are very different things. She's been carrying that sentence since forever, tried to believe it, made it her mantra even while killing innocent people. And still, through it all, Bellamy has been there, offering her forgiveness and comfort, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her safe. Making her feel not alone. Understood.

She pulls away in panic, sweeping her eyes over his face, trying to make him look at her, trying to bring him to look at her like he used to do. "Bellamy?"

"Take a step back, Clarke." he says in cold tone.

She unpleasantly does, and not because of him asking her to, but because of the tone of his voice. Like... like he's not there. Like Bellamy's not there with her. Like Bellamy's dead inside of whoever that is.   
He looks like _her_ Bellamy. But he's not.

"Do you want to know something, Clarke?" Anders' voice resounds.

"What did you to him?!" she yells.

"I told you. We improved his brain. Used it for higher purposes."

Clarke strides towards Anders before anything, determined to maybe punch him or who knows what because, she's not able to do that before Bellamy grabs her arms and pulls her back, stopping her roughly.

"You're not going anywhere." Bellamy's arms hold her in her place. She can feel his breath against the back of her neck.

"B-bellamy." Clarke breathes out, trying to free herself from his grip and look behind at him at the same time, "What are you doing..." she almost whispers because... now she gets it. It's more of a prayer than a question.

"What did you do to him?!" she shouts again, this time louder.

"I repeat... do you know something, Clarke?" Anders doesn't wait for her to talk again, "I knew you would come. I didn't need to send my men and women to get you... it's been... honestly too easy, Clarke."

"How," Clarke grunts quietly, "How did you, huh?"

"Well, Bellamy told me."

Clarke frowns.

"He told me you would come. He said you always do." Anders gazes at Bellamy, then, he starts listing, "Smart... kind... selfless. Loyal. Shrewd. He said this, not me. That you would do anything to protect the people you love. Go to any length..." Anders starts grinning, "Just like he did to save you when your brain was being captured by someone else, right, Clarke?"

Josephine and the mind-drive. She has no idea how he knows all that. Why did Bellamy talk? He would've never, not _willingly_.

"Oh, don't worry. I know lots of other things. I'd keep listing all of your best moments, trust me, but we don't have the whole day." he nods, "Although... let me tell you, genocide? A little harsh." Anders turns to look at Bellamy, who is still keeping Clarke still. "Right, Bellamy? You killed those innocent people in the mountain. How do you feel?"

"I must pay." Bellamy says, casually. "I must pay for my sins. My sins are who I am. I am sinful. I will pay for it."

"Very good." Anders pleasantly remarks.

"That's not true, Bellamy." she lets out, almost incredulous, trying to look him in the eyes, "You're not bad. Okay? Do you hear me? You're not bad."

"I'm sorry to interrupt. I will be waiting outside." Anders darkly smiles. It stays on the edges and it never reaches his eyes, although Clarke catches sight of something in them when he looks at Bellamy. It makes her shiver.

The door closes shut with a loud metallic sound and, soon, Bellamy let's go off her, throwing her on the floor to walk to a close white commode.  
Clarke growls and pushes the hair off her face, trying to get up, confused and close to the hopelessness.

"You're not Bellamy." she declares, looking at his back.

"That's what you say."

"Who's controlling you? Is that Anders?"

"No one's controlling me. I already told you, that's me."

"Not true." Clarke shakes her head, and quietly gasps when she hears the sound of a gun being loaded. "I know that's not you, but I also know that somewhere... inside of you, you're still there, Bellamy."

He doesn't seem moved. He grasps the gun and turns around. The look in his eyes makes Clarke's blood freeze.

She tries again. "I'm serious. I know you're in there... in there, somewhere. I miss it, Bellamy. I miss you. I miss the Bellamy- who did everything in his power to protect the teenagers that got sent to the ground to death. The Bellamy who risked his life to infiltrate in Mt. Weather and give us an inside man. We won thanks to you."

"We didn't win." he interrupts her. "We killed innocent people."

Clarke's forehead relaxes. "We had no choice." she whispers.

"That's what you always say, don't you? Too bad it's not a good excuse anymore." he takes a few step towards her. His feet look like he's marching. His movements are robotic, almost not human.

Clarke takes a few steps back. "It's never been an excuse. I know I did bad things. I paid the price for it. I left, after Mt. Weather. I left and-"

"And what, Clarke? You're right, you left me! You left all of us! You think I was fine? That you leaving would take the blame off me, the weight off my shoulders somehow?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then why'd you do that?" he angrily lets out.

"Because— because I needed to. I needed to- breathe, go away."

Bellamy nods. His expression is still cold, dark. But Clarke catches a glimpse of a sparkle in his eyes...tears?

"Too bad that what I needed was you."

That surpises her. Clarke stumbles back as Bellamy walks forward.

"You're not brave anymore now, are you?" he says.

"Bellamy," she starts again, "this isn't you."

"It's funny, you know? You've sacrificed yourself so many times for everyone... but admit it, every time you did that, it was because you actually knew you deserved to die for what you did." Bellamy walks forward as he starts twiddling the gun in his hands.

"Yeah, you're not wrong about that." she admits. "I do deserve to, after what I did." Clarke stops walking backwards, as she spits out through gritted teeth,"But not once I've sacrificed myself without the will to make you live. All of you, Bellamy. You, too."

"Oh, yeah" he stops in the middle of the room. "The hero. Because you'd do anything for your people, wouldn't you?" His voice is colder than ice and it hurts, Clarke thinks.

"You know I would. And that includes you, too, Bellamy."

"Too bad I'm not your people anymore."

"Doesn't matter. You'll always be my people... always." Clarke swallows, nodding to herself more as encouragement than anything.

Strangely, she's not afraid.  
She knows she should be, be scared for her life because that person is _not_ Bellamy, and he wants to kill her. But his presence makes it impossible for her to be scared for her life. Bellamy would never hurt her.

"You left me to die. In a fighting pit." he angrily blurts out.

Clarke relaxes her forehead. She gasps for air before shaking her head. "We already talked about that... that wasn't-"

"Shut up!" he spits, aiming the gun at her.

Clarke closes her eyes. Fear now starts running through her veins. "Bellamy..."

"Just shut up! I'm going to kill you. I must kill you."

"Yeah?" she challenges him like she isn't afraid, opening her eyes again. "And then what, Bellamy? What will you do when you come back to yourself and you'll find out what you did?"

A beat, then. "That's not my current problem." he swallows, and loads the gun.

Clarke sweeps her eyes over his face, thinking. The frightening tremble of her legs, she now understands, doesn't come from fearing for her life. She's scared for him. She hates seeing him like this and, even worse, if she kills her... she knows, he'd hate himself for the rest of his life if he comes back to himself. She can't let that happen.

In a heartbeat, she storms toward him and slams the gun against the wall, trying to block his arms. Bellamy's faster, though, and although the gun does get out of his hands he's quick enough to get out of her grip and trap her with his arms, him standing behind her, holding her arms in front of her, making it impossible for her to move.  
Clarke's back now against his chest.  
"Now what, Princess?"

The nickname makes her blood freeze.

Clarke doesn't answer. She uses him loosening his grip for talking to her advantage and pushes herself back, making him fall on his back. She's on top of him quickly, his arms pinned to the floor.

"I know you're in there, somewhere. It's me, Bellamy." she pleads, "It's Clarke."

"Shut up!" he barks.

He flips them over roughly. Clarke falls on her spine and growls from the pain.

She turns and crawls a little before he grabs her again, this time by her top and brings to the center of the room. Clarke groans and grabs the chair she was sitting before, holding onto it, but Bellamy turns and grabs the chair, too, slamming it against the wall, causing it to break to pieces. White woods's pieces all over the room.

He lets her go and Clarke hits her head just lightly. She whines.

"You don't deserve a quick death." he then says under his breath.

"I'm sorry, Bellamy. I'm so sorry they did this to you."

"No, you're not! Stop saying you're sorry!" he rushes to her but she moves her leg against his strongly enough to make him fall on his spine.

He grunts and she gets up, looking down at him. "I'm sorry for this, too."

"I'm going to kill you." he declares, "I'm going to kill you!" Bellamy repeats. He stands up to yank at her but Clarke's faster this time.

She punches his stomach and he bends forward, holding his abdomen and coughing.

"I know you're in there. Please... please, listen to me Bellamy, you're not bad. I know you think otherwise. But you're good."

He groans and rushes to her, faster then before. He punches her and she growls.   
Clarke turns her head to the side and spits blood. "You always made everything you could to protect your people, _that's_ who you are."

She notices Bellamy's breath is heavier. And she doesn't think it's because of the fight. She sweeps her eyes over his face. Maybe, maybe it's working. She tells herself to keep going, to ignore the pain.

"You're the person who taught me how to use a gun. Thanks to you, I can defend myself now."

"Do you think this is going to work? The Bellamy you knew is dead, Clarke. And you'll be too in a while."

Bellamy gets closer and grabs her arm, pulling her closer and wrapping his arm around her neck. Clarke gasps for air and furrows her eyebrows together, desperately fighting to get some oxygen.

When he gives her some, loosening the grip to let her breathe, she takes a deep breath before using it to talk to him. "You're the person who saved everyone thanks to your work in Mt. Weather." she says with shaky voice. "You're- the person who protected his sister through everything, always- always tried to do anything in his power to keep her safe... you-" Clarke gasps again. Bellamy has tightened the grip again.  
He leans over enough to murmur in her ear, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Clarke hits his stomach with her elbow. "You-" she turns around to see him against the wall, "You are the person who uses his heart because that's what you do... this is what makes you, you, Bellamy. I know your heart is hearing right now..."   
Clarke makes the decision to get closer even if that could be dangerous. She needs him to feel her touch.

"Please..." she places be hands on his cheeks, and sees him looking at her with such a cold look she almost gives up, "Please, come back to me, Bellamy. It's me. I- I need you."

"You never needed me." he murmurs, almost whispers. He doesn't try to fight her back. All he does is looking at her.  
Clarke sweeps her eyes over his face.

"There's nothing further from the truth than what you just said. I've always needed you. I'll always do." she admits, more to herself than to this version of him. "I needed you when we got sent to Earth and I found myself trying to lead some teenagers. I told you, by the tree, after Dax attacked us... I wasn't lying, Bellamy. I needed you in Mt. Weather, when you placed your hand on mine and took some of the weight off my shoulders, whispering together and doing something that would've hunted us for the rest of our existences. I needed you even when I left after that...you said you needed me and I didn't need you, but that's not true. I would've asked you, asked you to come with me... screw everything else and just- come with me, but I couldn't, because I knew the others needed you more. I trusted you back then with them. I always have. I knew they wouldn't need me if you were there... I- I needed you, when I said it before you locked me up. When you said I left you and yes, I did, and yes, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Bellamy! I needed you-" Clarke swallows, trying to catch the tears back in. She fights, and fights against them, but eventually she loses, and one falls out her left eye, marking her cheek. The tears, the short breath of the fight and Bellamy being there but not being Bellamy, all making her sob. "I needed you even when you left me on Earth. I needed you every single day of those two thousand, one hundred, and ninety nine days. I needed you so much, that it hurt... it hurt so bad, Bellamy." she whispers. She lets go off his cheek. Her heart racing is die thing she forces herself to ignore right now. "I needed you but you weren't there, so yes, I radioed you. Everyday...and everyday, I got no response. I would've gone mad if that wasn't for you. Talking to you... it kept me sane." she admits fr the second time. Clarke breathes in, taking a step back. "You always have."

Their heavy and loud breathes are the background of Bellamy's next move.   
He painfully clenches his jaw and pulls away from the wall, a very loud groan, "Shut up! Just shut up, shut up!" he yells, loudly — louder than Clarke's ever heard him yell — and rushes to her with a bigger anger, making her fall on her back.   
Clarke hits her head and grunts.   
She sees his face above hers right after. He's looking down at her, but with a different look on his face this time.  
He looks... frustrated. Which is something the cold and robotic Bellamy she saw a few minutes ago wouldn't feel.

A glimpse of hope lights in Clarke's chest.  
She swears he almost swallows out of frustration before proceeding to almost stomp on her with his foot.

Clarke rolls on her side and quickly slides away from him. In the chaos of the moment, she sees the gun in the closest corner. Something flashes through her mind as she looks at Bellamy. He's stomping towards her, anger clear in his face. It's now, or never.

Clarke prays this works. She almost throws herself there and grabs the gun. She checks if it's still loaded with shaking hands. She tells herself to calm down. To swallow. To breath.   
But how can she breathe when the person she loves the most is trying to kill her?

She turns to him with the gun in her hand. He stops once he sees it. But she doesn't aim it at him. Seeing herself in Bellamy's dark eyes, she slowly kneels down, aiming the gun to her temple.  
Bellamy seems... confused.   
He frowns, and Clarke swallows.

"Is that what you want?" she asks. Her voice is trembling too much. "I'll pull the trigger. If you tell me you want me to die... I- I'll do it myself." she can't help it when another tear runs down her face, and then another.  
She's sobbing before she knows she is. "I'm not kidding Bellamy. Please," she begs, oh, she begs and it really sounds like a sobbed prayer, "Come back to me. I- I can't do this without you." she manages without sobs.

"I'm supposed to kill you." Bellamy whispers through gritted teeth.

"But do you want to, Bellamy? Are you supposed to, or you _want_ to?"

Bellamy furrows his eyebrows together. She notices his chest going up and down faster, his breathing getting heavier. Drops of sweats cover his forehead. "Shut up... Stop talking....Stop, stop, stop...just stop-" he runs his hands through his hair, runs them down his face, "Stop! Stop!"

Clarke watches terrified.   
Bellamy falls down on his knees in front of her and lets his hands fall.   
"Stop..." he whispers.

"I'm gonna pull the trigg-"

"Shut up!" he shouts. It's clear on his face, like he's fighting something, someone.   
He's fighting himself.

She swallows. "I want you to come back, and stop me from doing it."

"No!" Bellamy blurts out. He starts crying.

Clarke closes her eyes. She opens them again and presses the gun more against the temple, scaring herself.   
She whispers this time, "I'm sorry, Bellamy. I just... I wish I'd had the possibility to tell you how I feel. I'm really sorry we won't have the chance to."

Tears still in Bellamy's eyes as he lifts his head and meets her eyes. She realizes it's the first time he's looked her in the eyes. Like he's been fighting against himself to not do it. But those words... lighted something in him.

"I know you're in there." this escapes Clarke's lips in a gasped whisper. Her finger on the trigger. "It's okay, Bellamy." she sobs, "I forgive you. Okay? I forgive you for this, I promise. You're forgiven. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

Something snaps in Bellamy's face. One second he's kneeled down there, determined to kill her and the next one his expression is softer. Clarke sees it immediately. "No!" he widens his eyes and throws himself on her. It looks exactly like Bellamy... she knows, no, feels it.

She feels him snatching the gun out of her hand and throwing it away. He faces her, and Clarke exhales deeply. She can't stop sobbing, not now, but she manages to let out a "Bellamy?"

Bellamy cries, too. He nods heavily, looking like he just murdered someone, his whole body trembling and his face pale as the walls of the room they're in. He bursts into a louder cry as soon as Clarke throws her arms around him.

"Oh, Bellamy." she murmurs, and hugs him tightly, so tightly.

Bellamy hugs her back and cries hard, face buried in her neck. "I'm- I'm so-sorry." he sobs.

Clarke just pulls him closer. "It's okay." she reassures him, trying not to sob. She strokes his hair, slowly.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, oh my god, I'm sorry, Clarke. I didn't- I didn't-"

"Shhh." His sobs intensify and she just holds him closer. "It's okay." Clarke whispers, "I promise. It's going to be okay."

Right when she thinks things can go even worse than that because she hears footsteps — worse than a controlled version of her Bellamy trying to kill her? — the door opens, and Clarke lifts her head from Bellamy's head. She relaxes her forehead at the sight of her friends, there to help. She's not exactly sure _how_ they got there when they had been separated in the first place, but Raven was with them, so she's not really that surprised by it. 

Raven walks inside and seems worried, while Murphy and Emori are outside, looking out for anyone to come.

"What then hell happened?" Raven whispers confused, throwing a look at Bellamy in Clarke's arms. Her eyes glance at the gun on the floor, then widen for a second, before looking back at Clarke showing out a fear, "Is he-"

"No." Clarke lets out, "No. No, he's- he's okay." she assures, "It's a long story, but- we need to take him out of here. We need to go before they come back, now!"

Raven nods and they both seem surprised when, as soon as Clarke unwraps her arms from him, Bellamy's not conscious. She herself figures it has to do something with whatever they did to him to make him like this and with whatever's price there is to pay for bringing him back from that. She's willing to pay it, as long as it doesn't affect _him._

Luckily _,_ theyallmanage to get out of the building fast before the guards keep them from it.

Emori and Murphy cover Raven and Clarke who're holding Bellamy's unconscious body and bringing it out of that hell of a place, and Clarke takes a sigh of relief when she sees Miller Echo and Octavia in a river waiting for them.

"Where the hell did you get that from?" she yells, not hesitating to help Raven carrying Bellamy's body inside.

Miller, from the driver seat, hints a smirk. "Stolen. Want me to bring it back?"

Clarke smiles. "Hell, no."

When Emori and Murphy catch up, a little slower because they shot a few to the guards following them, they go.

When they leave the guards behind, Clarke relaxes a bit more. But the tense of her shoulder is not just due to their fugitive status, and she knows it for sure when she glances at Bellamy's face. He's still unconscious, head laying on her lap. She takes the time to sweep her eyes over his face, slowly, taking in ever detail she's surely missed. She'd take care of his wounds if she had anything to do it with.

When they arrive at the anomaly stone, it doesn't get too long before Raven figures how to bring them all back to Sanctum.

Before going in, she glances at Bellamy who's carefully being carried by Murphy and Miller. She takes a deep breath. Yes, he's tried to kill her, and yes, she knows that was _not_ him, was not _her_ Bellamy, and that makes her extremely thankful.  
If Bellamy wanted to kill her... if, for any possibility, Bellamy wanted her to die... she's pretty sure she'd kill herself right away. No reason to keep living in a world where the person she's in love with — has been for who knows how long, at this point — wants her dead.

And just like that, they come home.

###

**_# BELLAMY #_ **

He doesn't feel like it's real until it happens. It's all confusing sounds coming from pretty much everywhere and nowhere at the same time. And while he's still unconscious, and still totally oblivious to what happened — not sure he's still alive either — pain is what he experiences. This time, he knows where it's coming from; it's coming from a very deep part in his chest, slightly to the left right where _her_ hand once landed and warmed even his chest that warmth hadn't seen in a while. It's pain because he's not conscious — not completely yet — yet he feels and hears things, without an exact explanation. Pain coming right from that once warm — now cold, cold place. Pain, because it's all he's ever known.

When he first wakes up, his head is hurting like crazy. There's an insisting and metallic noise that's hurting his ears he doesn't quite understand where is coming from.   
But there's also a warm voice he's sure might be the reason he's slowly coming back, because when he hears it, it feels exactly like _home_.

It's a hand on his, and the warmth of it, the first ever sensation he feels, however.

And because he's not strong enough to talk yet, or even move at all for what it's worth, he focuses all of his accumulated strengths to lift one single pointer finger against whoever's hand is currently holding his.

_"Oh my god."_

_"I think- I think he moved his finger."_

_"Clarke, are you sure? The possibilities that-"_

_"I'm sure! I'm sure, he— Bellamy? Bellamy, can you hear me? Can you hear my voice? Hey, I'm here. I'm here, Bellamy. I'm not leaving you."_

When he opens his right eye, he needs to close it right away. The light is so strong he feels it could blind him. But a few seconds later, he feels the hand on his squeezing it, giving him strength. And so, he opens both of his eyes.

_"Oh my god."_

He swallows thickly. The stabbing headache gets stronger by the second and he feels a sense of loss deep in his chest, as the first thought he's able to form takes the shape of a name: _Clarke_?

_Did I kill her?_  
_Did I kill her?_  
_Did I kill her?_

And then, then she looks at him, and his whole world starts spinning again.

It's the way her voice goes easy and soft on him that reassures him. But not only, her words, too, like she knows exactly what's going in his mind right now (she always has).

"It's okay, Bellamy. It's okay... I'm okay." Clarke reassures him, squeezing his hand, "I'm okay, and you're back." she smiles, but a tear falls down her eye and ricochets on his shoulder. "You're back to us."

Bellamy sweeps his eyes over her face and all he can do, right now, is sigh out of relief.

"I-"

"I know." Clarke says, "I know. It's okay, Bellamy, it doesn't matter now. Not anymore."

"I tried to kill you." Bellamy insists, whispering it like it's a secret he's ashamed of, something that's consuming him inside all over again.

Clarke shakes her head. "Not you. You weren't in yourself."

"I tried... I almost- almost... did. Killed you."

"But you didn't. And now I'm here. It's okay..." she nods as two other tears fall down her cheeks, "It's all okay now."

Bellamy can't help but smile weakly, closing his eyes at the tenderness her voice exhales.   
He sighs heavily, like a big heavy weight got lifted up his shoulders right in this moment. Because he knows, that had he woken up to Clarke being dead — being _killed_ by his own hands — there would've been no reason to live anymore.

"What..." he tries to talk, but it's still hard. "What happened?"

"You passed out. Raven said— she said it's probably because of your brain and the stress it had in the last three months. We're back to Sanctum, now."

Three whole months?  
"That's... how long I've been away?"

"Technically, yes. But only for you. Raven says time passes differently there. Here... it's been just five days."

Bellamy nods.   
"You guys were quick." he weakly smirks, "would've been too bad if you'd have lose a month or two and would have come back to me having a long white beard."

Clarke's giggle resounds in the walls of the room of Sanctum's palace they're in. It feels so warm. 

Bellamy smiles genuinely at her.

"Is everyone okay?" he asks, scared of the million possible answers.

He feels relief when Clarke nods.   
"Yeah. We're _all_ okay now."

His gaze moves to her hand squeezing his and his lip arches in another weak smile.

"Anders—"

"We know. Raven and Jackson have tried to figure out, we think they brainwashed you." she nods, like she knows what she's saying. "Some kind of... training, or sort of, to make you one of them. To make you a murderer."

Bellamy sighs, and rethinks about his staying there. About the things he's had to endure.

"They want you." he bursts out.

Clarke nods slightly.  
"We know. We just don't know why yet."

"They said... that you're the key, or something." Bellamy frowns, "I never really understood, they never really explained it to me, just- gave me orders and I obeyed. But we need to protect you now, Clarke." he tries to lift himself up but he winces at the tentative.

"Hey, hey... you need to rest."

"We need to figure something out to protect you. They're not going to stop looking for you."

"We will, Bellamy." and in her voice there's some sort of comfort, like she means it, like for the first time in a while, she's positive things will be good for them. "I promise you, we will."

And her promise sounds exactly like what he needs right now.

Then, Bellamy stares at her for a big too long, and that's when Clarke frowns.

"What?"

With a whisper, he confesses, "They made me listen to a tons of your radio calls."

Bellamy can clearly see it when Clarke's face darkens. It's like she's just seen a ghost and he immediately regrets telling her that. But before he decides what to say, or to speak at all, she does.

"I'm sorry..."

Bellamy frowns. "What are you apologizing to?"

"I'm sorry you had to hear them. I'm sorry that- that you felt guilty. For leaving me behind."

It's like this girl is able to read his mind and his heart at the same time.

"I'm sorry for leaving." he counters, quietly.

"Never say that again." Clarke says, and without even thinking, she brings an hand to his cheek, caressing it slowly. "You did what you had to do."

Bellamy closes his eyes at the warmth of the touch. He whispers "If you'd come with us, things would've been a hundred times easier."

Clarke hints a small smile that stays on the edges and makes Bellamy's heart ache.

"It would've been great. But we're together now, aren't we?"

Bellamy sweeps his eyes over her face before he makes them land on hers. It's all uncertainties and pain in this world, death left and right and so, so much suffer and grief, brokenness. Brokenness that consumes you, makes you become a monster ready to kill the person you love the most.  
So, it's up to you to not let it happen. It's up to you to make love get stronger, bigger, more powerful.

"They made me kill you in a simulation. And he killed you in another." he whispers to her.

Clarke relaxes her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." he reassures, "It was just... it was just so real. The pain of it was so real, too. I don't think I would've survived killing you, Clarke. I already did it once... and it killed me, too."

"Bellamy... I'm right here, okay? You need to forgive yourself for doing the right thing. If you hadn't, all of you would be dead. You, too. I wouldn't be okay with that."

"Yeah, but-"

"No but." Clarke firmly says, "I know that's not the only thing that bothers you. You need to forgive yourself for everything. We both do."

"How do we do that? I wouldn't even know where to start." Bellamy says as he shrugs his shoulders.

She sighs. "Letting the people who love you take care of you is already a start."

He glances at her hand on his, and it's only in the moment that he realizes she never took her other hand off his cheek.

He looks down at her lips, her face closer than it's ever been, and the warmth of her body so close to his makes him feel alive again after being half dead for days.

"I'm sorry for almost killing you." he whispers.

"It's okay." Clarke says.

Bellamy swallows heavily now that they're the closest they've ever been.

"I thought I'd lost you forever." she dares, and Bellamy closes his eyes.

"You haven't." he hums quietly, "You won't, as long as I'll live."

"Bellamy..."

"It's alright," he opens his eyes again, wetting his lips, "We can figure it all out later, right? We always have."

She smiles. "Yeah. Yeah we always have."

And just like that, Clarke's the one who closes the useless space separating their lips and collides them together.   
The kiss is slow but so, so needy.   
Clarke caresses his cheek with her thumb, Bellamy places his hand on her cheek, too, and between a few breathes and smiles, he tries to lift himself up to deepen the kiss, but she doesn't let him.   
He smiles against her lips because that's what she does, that's what Clarke has always done: she takes care of the people she loves. Even when he would just like to fucking _finally_ kiss her.

But, then, even the strongest person like her needs someone who can take care of her. Make sure she's okay. Care about her... _love_ her.

And Bellamy's so damn glad he can do that now, for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say, I thought about how I should’ve made Bellamy snap out of it and I was really against making Clarke point a gun to her head like she did with Madi at first. Clarke is my favorite character, and the last thing I want to do is seeing her in pain. But I also know how broken she is; she’s been through hell and back and is deeply traumatized and though I’d absolutely HATE(!) the thought of the show doing it for real, I thought this was a true, real, and adequate response from her character. I just really hope we won’t see her in these conditions EVER again, ever, no, not even for Bellarke purposes.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3 
> 
> comments are always appreciated, they warm my heart so don’t be afraid to leave your impressions down below if you’d like to!


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